in some misguided attempt to avoid the missing.
The potential poignancy stung too much
so the numbness and I would snuggle in my red Snuggie
some Friday nights on the hardwood floor; it tenderly
wiped crumbs off my chin with a fleece wing.
But it never could stroke my hand the way your soft, warm thumb does
when we watch clattering DVDs on your rickety laptop
like the gooey-eyed teenagers once were.
We scratch the disc to confuse
past, present, and future tense.
We make the movie skip
#Unreal #Poem #Missing #Memories #ScratchTheDisc
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